


Undercover

by phantasticalvin



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-08-23 07:08:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16614266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phantasticalvin/pseuds/phantasticalvin
Summary: Penguin is holding a gala and he intends to hold all of the partygoers for ransom! Batman needs Nightwing and Oracle to go undercover - as Dick Grayson and Barbara Gordon - so he can have eyes inside the party. To really sell the part, he needs them to go on a series of high-profile dates in Gotham. Fake dating should be easy for the former partners to the Bat, but what happens when fake dating leads to real feelings?





	1. Chapter 1

**T-14 Days: The Pitch**

 

“As you know, Penguin has invited all of the wealthy people of Gotham to the Iceberg Lounge for a charity event for the families of crime victims,” Batman briefed, flashing images of flyers for the event. _Cobblepot’s Gala for Victims of Crime_ was written in fancy letters. _Have a heart - do your part!_ “I have intel that he plans on kidnapping the patrons and holding them for ransom. As such, I believe it is in our best interest that Bruce Wayne not attend the gala.”

Nightwing leaned easily against the large computer. “Won’t it be suspicious if Bruce Wayne conveniently doesn’t show up for a gala and Batman swoops in to save the day? Penguin might not be the smartest swallow in the nest, but he’s no bird brain, either.”

“Nightwing’s right,” Oracle chimed in from one of the large monitors. “Bruce Wayne is one of the biggest names in Gotham - especially when it comes to philanthropy. If he doesn’t show, Penguin’s going to be suspicious. Batman, Nightwing and I can deal with whatever happens when Penguin springs his trap. We can handle it.”

Batman’s face was unmoving. “I already have an assignment for you two,” he said pulling up another screen. “I need people on inside who can handle the situation when Penguin makes his move. People I can trust. I need you two on the floor, undercover, when everything happens.”

Nightwing brightened. “Oho! So this is a black tie undercover gig. I’ll be Rex Buckingham: British secret agent, ballistics expert, and ladies' man. Oracle can be-” Nightwing did not get to finish the details of his fantasy, as Batman interrupted.

“Actually,” And Nightwing could have sworn he saw Batman crack a smile as he said this (and that worried him). “You will be going as Dick Grayson - ward to Bruce Wayne and deeply apologetic that Bruce himself could not attend - at the gala in his stead. It’ll help to stave off any suspicion about Bruce Wayne being Batman if one of the Wayne family is there.”

“And that makes me…?”

“Barbara Gordon, daughter of the Gotham City’s police commissioner.” Bruce paused, considering his words. “And one of the victims of Gotham’s criminals.”

“Bruce, I don’t think that-” Nightwing interceded, concerned.

“It makes sense,” Oracle cut through, her face devoid of emotion. “And Dad was invited to this thing too, but he was busy with police stuff so he told them no.” There was a pause. “Plus, he hates talking about my condition. I can see it in his eyes every time he looks at me - I don’t think he knows how easy he can be to read sometimes.” She sighed. “Just because this doesn’t define me, doesn’t mean it isn’t part of who I am, so I might as well make use of it.”

Batman looked between Nightwing and Oracle, waiting for someone to add anything. “Then it’s settled. You two will be undercover at the Iceberg Lounge for the gala in two weeks. No earpieces - too noticeable, so you’re going to have to trust that we’re watching. Hopefully, we’ll be able to stop whatever Penguin has before his scheme is set in motion, but if all else fails, I need you two to run interference. Nightwing, there will be a microphone set in your cufflinks that you can use to inform us of anything suspicious you see. You two have been with me the longest, other than Alfred. I trust you can get this done.”

Nightwing nodded. “Alright, Bruce, sounds like a solid plan. I assume Alfred is tailoring a suit for me?”

“The suit has _already_ been tailored for you, Master Dick,” Alfred said, appearing with a tuxedo on a hanger. “Please _do_ try not to get this one covered in gunpowder... or cake.”

Oracle bit her lip in thought. Finding a dress for this kind of occasion would be killer. At least she had two weeks. Trying to find a dress the night before would be a nightmare. “Don’t worry, Oracle,” Batman said as if reading her mind. “Alfred has already sent over a dress for the gala. Courtesy of Wayne Industries, of course. Two weeks should give us plenty of time to make any necessary adjustments. Additionally: Wayne Industries will also be glad to provide resources for hair, makeup, and nails, should you request it.”

“I hope the dress is to your liking, Miss Gordon,” Alfred gave a small bow.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard Bruce talk about hair and nails outside of a crime scene,” Nightwing said, slack-jawed. “Am I the only one hearing this?”

“You’re the only one making a big deal out of it,” Oracle rolled her eyes. “And if I’m on-site, then who-?”

“Cassandra will be running Oracle for this operation,” Batman answered her question before she could finish asking it. “She’s taken well to your training. Any further questions?”

“That covers it,” Oracle sighed.

The room was silent as Batman waited for a question or quip from Nightwing. None came. He continued, “For this operation to be successful, I believe it will be necessary for Dick Grayson and Barbara Gordon to be seen together in public in what can be perceived as dates. It will make arriving together at the Iceberg Lounge more plausible, and the resulting media circus will further draw attention away from the fact that Bruce Wayne will be missing from the gala. To that end, I have arranged a series of date activities in high-profile locations that should draw the attention of the Gotham press. The first will be on Saturday, two nights from now, at the Ivory Tower. Bruce Wayne owns the restaurant, so acquiring reservations was simple. Dress nicely, have dinner, smile for the cameras, sell the cover story for the next two weeks and the gala job will be simple.”

Shocked silence. Two weeks to sell the story was a lot more than Nightwing and Oracle had bargained for. But…

“If you feel it’s necessary, we’ll do it,” Oracle said with a slight nod, her expression unreadable. It would be fine. It wasn’t like the old days when Dick was Robin and _clearly_ crushing on her. A series of fake dates would be totally manageable. Even if she would have given anything to go on a real date with Dick now that he’d grown a couple of years, as long as one of them wasn’t emotionally invested, it’d be fine. And of course, Dick had gone off with the Teen Titans and had dated Kori for awhile - surely he was long over her by now. It was going to be fine. Totally fine. Cool, calm, professional.

“Yeah - yeah, I can do that. For the mission. Of course.” Nightwing scratched his head. It seemed a little over the top, but he knew better than most how important it was to sell a performance. He grinned, even though his heart was doing somersaults. Dates with Babs? Two years ago, he would have killed to have this kind of opportunity. Hell, he’d still kill to go on real dates with her now, but he never felt he was quite enough for her. She was an internationally-recognized hacker and source of information to heroes everywhere. He was an ex-sidekick who had a penchant for jumping off of buildings and sticking the landing. He wasn’t anything special - not in a world of people who could fly and shoot lasers out of their eyes.

“One last thing,” Batman said after the pause. “I know this is an operation, but don’t hesitate to have a little fun. You will be going to a party, after all. And of course, the number one rule of the operation-”

“Don’t drink the punch,” Nightwing suggested.

“-Don’t fall in love.”

Thinly veiled shock registered from Nightwing and Oracle.

“You made a joke.” Nightwing was losing his mind. “You- Bruce, you made a joke.”

Batman’s face was impassive marble.

“Number one rule: don’t fall in love,” he repeated, and with a dramatic swirl of his cape, Batman stepped towards the Batmobile and sped away.

“That was a joke, right? Bruce was joking?”

“You heard the man, boy wonder. Oracle out.”

The cave was large, cold, and dark since the computer screens were out. The smell of the Batmobile’s wheels permeated throughout the cavern.

“Alfred?”

“Yes, Master Dick?”

“He was joking, right?”

“Let’s try on that new tuxedo, Master Dick.”

-

“Take a left down the next alley - it should cut ten seconds from your time,” Babs advised in Stephanie’s ear. She complied, taking the corner with ease. It had taken a while for Steph to trust all of Babs’ instructions, but she had come to learn that Babs knew everything, including how to make a mean batch of waffles.

“So. I heard you’ve got a hot date on Saturday.”

“Hop the fence and grapple across the street, then take a right down Jefferson.” Steph did as suggested.

“You’re ignoring my comment, Oracle.”

“I’m busy making sure you catch the bad guy and also don’t get rammed by a bus, Batgirl. He’ll be coming around the corner now, clothesline him.” Oracle heard a satisfying crash from her end of the coms.

“And another one bites the dust,” Steph announced cheerfully. “I’ve gotten the stolen goods off of him and he’s tied with a bow - happy holidays, Gotham City PD! Now can we please talk about your date? I’m _dying_ . Cass doesn’t date and Tim’s dating _me_ so there aren’t that many people to talk to about this, and I’m not super interested in talking about my own relationship right now so spill.”

Babs sighed and relented. It would probably be good for her to talk about this anyway. Healthier, some might say. “Well, first of all, it’s not a real date, so get that straight. We’re on a mission for Batman, and that just happens to involve selling ourselves as Gotham’s next big couple to gossip about so that no one pays too much attention to the fact that Bruce Wayne won’t be at the big gala.”

“But…?”

“I… kind of wish it was.”

“I _knew it_.”

“It’s not happening, Steph. Sure, he was really into me when we were Batgirl and Robin, but I’m Oracle now and he’s been with the Teen Titans for a while. Things are different.”

“And why didn’t you do anything about it then?”

“Well. I mean Dick was kind of…”

“A child?”

“Yes. A circus boy. Didn’t really take anything seriously, came off as an annoying younger brother.”

“Ah and now that he’s a sexy circus _man_ , you want the uh...”

Don’t say “Dick dick,” Babs prayed.

“Dick squared.” Not better.

“He’s grown up, Steph. He still has all of the stuff that I loved about him when we were younger, but it’s like things matter to him now. He’s a damned good detective and he’s not a sidekick anymore. I feel like he’s really carved out his own place, and that place doesn’t really have room for an ex-Batgirl.”

“Maybe he doesn’t need an ex-Batgirl. Maybe he’d prefer an Oracle in his life. Someone to show him the way and whatnot. Whispering sweet somethings into his ear as he glides across the skyline, spandex-covered butt shining under the Gotham lights.”

“Steph… I don’t know how to respond to that. I... Oracle out.”

“Wait-!”

Babs hung up, set her glasses down, and rubbed at her eyes. It’s just another op for Batman, she thought. Not real dates, no need to get emotionally involved. Just Nightwing and Oracle saving Gotham city from the Penguin. Easy. So easy. Just take it one fake date at a time, Babs.

-

“So you’re going on dates with _the_ Barbara Gordon? Like more than one date? The Barbara Gordon I’ve heard _so much_ about?” Wally’s voice was rushed - like a ten-page paper started the night before it was due. “Sorry, stopping a robbery, should take a second.” A second passed. “This is like your dream come true, dude.”

“I know. Well, it totally was. And kind of still is.” Dick was in audible turmoil. “But they’re fake dates. So it’s not really happening, and it’s not like it’s ever actually going to happen. She’s too good for me.” Dick could hear Wally rolling his eyes over the phone.

“We accept the love we think we deserve, Dick.”

“Are you - what are you quoting?”

“Can’t a guy have a deeply profound original thought?”

“...”

“Okay, fine, it’s from Perks of Being a Wallflower. Linda and I watched it last night. Totally didn’t see the ending coming.”

“Speaking of Linda-”

“Yeah, she’s clearly too good for me, Dick. She’s got a great career going for her, she’s hardworking, super smart, _beautiful_ , and she could have any guy in Keystone City she wanted, but she chose me. But hey, if an incredible woman can settle for some loser like me, then there’s still hope for you too, my boy.”

“Oh ha-ha. And since I’m actually better than you, my chances are _so_ much higher.”

“ _You wish_ \- I’ve never worn booty shorts and pixie boots to fight crime.”

“I was _twelve_!”

“Still counts.”

Dick cracked a smile. “It’s good to hear from you, Wally. Thanks for taking my call.”

“Anytime, Dick. You’re always welcome over for dinner. We’ve got plenty of ice cream in the fridge if you need to have a heart-to-heart. Or just want to stop by. Whatever. Maybe you can swing by after your first date with Barbara. Debrief.”

“It’s not _really_ a date, but I’ll consider it. Never change, Wally.”

“Only grow, Dick. Toodles!” Wally hung up and Dick was left with the night and sirens of Gotham to cover his thoughts.

“Rule number one: don’t fall in love, Bruce said.” Dick sighed. “If only you had told me that six years ago.”


	2. Cut Loose

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all - thanks for the overwhelming support for this fic. I apologize that it's taken me literally four months to finish writing this chapter, I've been fairly busy. If I keep up this pace, I might actually hit my goal of finishing it during one of the winter holiday seasons! (Maybe in three years). Again, thank you for the support, it's meant a lot to me/cleared my depression (I wish). Enjoy! I will try to keep writing on a more regular basis!

**T-13 Days - Cut Loose**

 

“So they were just stealing a bunch of citrus?” No one would ever say that Gotham didn’t have more than its fair share of bizarre crimes, Oracle thought. But fruit theft?

“Seems like it. Orange you glad I stopped them?” Oracle could feel Nightwing’s smug grin from across the line. “Commit the crime, do the lime.”

“Pretty  sure that’s not how it goes, Boy Blunder.” He’s such an idiot, she thought, rubbing at her temple and trying to suppress the smile making its way across her face. What an adorable, goofy idiot.

“I can hear you smiling, Oracle. You can even laugh if you’d like - I promise I won’t tell Bats that you’re breaking rule number two.” Even though she’d already broken rule number one, she thought. Nightwing switched to an awfully exaggerated Batman voice. “Rule number two of fighting crime in Gotham: No laughing. Justice is serious.”

“You’re doing the bat ears, aren’t you?”

“Check the feed from Tony’s.”

Oracle accessed the camera feed from Tony’s, a pizza place that Dick and Babs had gone to many after school and before their extracurricular activities with Batman. Dick was across the street, perched on a rooftop with his fingers mimicking Batman’s cowl and his tongue sticking out. Oracle laughed in earnest.

“Dammit, Dick, I have a reputation.”

“Hah, well so long as no one else is on this line, I’d say your secret is safe with me.” Dick’s heart was pounding faster than usual - and it wasn’t because of the citrus heist. There was something about Babs’ laugh that threw him off his rhythm. She didn’t laugh enough, and every time she did, Dick couldn’t help but smile. His heart flipped with him as he leaped off the rooftop and swung through Gotham. “Anything suspicious out there, Oracle?” Back to business.

“Nothing. No noise from Penguin, either, which is surprising. For such a supposedly large-scale op that he’s planning, I’m not getting many moving parts.”

“Maybe he’s gotten better at hiding his digital footprint?”  
“I doubt it. He’d have to be as good as Calculator to get past me - and Calculator’s gone and there is no way that Cobblepot learned how to hack in the past two months. Not well, at least.”

“Maybe he’s ditched digital. Probably the best way to keep hidden these days. If what he’s planning is _that_ big, he’ll probably make sure there’s no digital evidence that some sexy super sleuth could dig up.”

“Dick, I’m not sure I’d call you a super sleuth.”

“Ah, but you _would_ call me sexy.”

Damn.

Before Babs could muster up a response, Dick was plowing forward. “Well if Cobblepot is on the outs with technology, then maybe he’s on the _ins_ with hard copies in secret file cabinets. Maybe some paper trails of payouts for his upcoming heist?”

“Which means some good old-fashioned sleuthing. Maybe I’ll give you the ‘sleuth,’ boy wonder.”

“If I manage to snag evidence from a secret filing cabinet, will I earn the ‘super’ too?”

“That remains to be seen.” Babs was already quick at work, pulling up maps of where all of Penguin’s holdings in Gotham were. “I’ve located five probable locations for a ‘secret filing cabinet’ for you to explore. Uploading to your mask now.”

“Thanks, Babs - I’ll check these out and check in if I find anything.”

“Be _safe_ , Dick.”

He laughed, a pure and playful sound. “There isn’t really a ‘safe’ in our business, Babs. We fling ourselves into danger wearing colorful costumes every night. I will be _careful_ , though... Actually, I take that back - there are plenty of safes in our line of work, they just all tend to get cracked _wide_ open.”

“Alright, smartass, be _careful_ then. Can’t have my sexy sleuth pecked to death by a bunch of birds. We do have a _date_ after all.”

“How could I forget?” She felt the smile from the other side of the line again. “And by the way, Babs, I meant that _you_ were the sexy super sleuth, obviously. Nightwing out.”

-

Four of the “probable locations” that Babs had pulled up had turned out to be (mostly) legitimate business holdings, despite a thorough check for sketchy documents and secret passages. Dick perched on a rooftop across from the final location - another fairly nondescript office building. He flipped on the infrared function on his mask.

“The game is afoot!” he whispered softly to himself. He spotted several heat signatures from some of Cobblepot’s men patrolling the halls of this building. He counted a dozen men, all armed, much more security than one would expect from a random office building. Something in here is worth protecting, he thought to himself. And I’m going to find out what. “Door on the roof, too. Bad guys are taking all of the fun out of sneaking into their hideouts.” Nightwing rappelled onto the roof of the office building, landing lightly.

The door had a small keypad lock. If he just kicked it open, he knew it would likely trigger some sort of alarm. He needed to approach this with more finesse. He flicked out a blacklight and investigated the keypad. The zero, two, and six keys were all a little worn and heavily covered in oils. The six appeared to be the most heavily covered in oils. Maybe it was in the code twice? Dick scoured his brain for any relevant numbers. Codes were rarely random. A date? No -  a _birthdate._ It clicked in his head - July 26, Penguin’s birthday. Dick tutted and punched in 0-6-2-6 into the keypad and the door clicked open. Bad guys were _so_ predictable.

The building was quiet, and Nightwing managed to avoid most of the guards simply by keeping an eye on the glowing heat signatures moving around the building. He snuck around, checking for secret passages and for doors that might lead to hidden sections of the building. It was a slow and fruitless process.

This isn’t going anywhere, he thought, pausing outside of a door marked “Maintenance.” Think. If I were guarding some kind of secret, where would it be? How would I hide it?

He traced the frame of the door contemplatively with his finger. I’d definitely want it to be the most guarded part of the building… Which means that it would have the highest density of guards. Dick did a quick sweep with the infrared, scanning for a higher concentration of guards somewhere. He noticed two guards standing fixed outside a door two floors below him.

“Bingo,” he smirked, making his way towards the nearest staircase. He couldn’t believe that he hadn’t noticed it sooner. Bruce would have been disappointed. There were six guards on that floor alone, of _course_ that was where whatever secret Penguin had was being hidden. He paused. He _could_ fight his way in - it’s not like Penguin’s goons were a particularly adept bunch, but he had promised Babs that he would be careful. That wasn’t a promise he intended to go back on. Maybe there’s a window? Wouldn’t be much of a secret room if there was a window he could just leap into, but it was worth a shot. He made his way back outside onto the rooftop and rappelled his way down the building, looking for the  room guarded by the two stationary goons. No window. He hung outside of the room, thinking.

“Need a hand, boy wonder?” A familiar voice said from behind him. It couldn’t be. He spun around to face the source and was greeted by a smirk and long blonde hair. Stephanie. Right. Of course. He pointed at the roof of the building he was on and she shot her grappling hook over. He scampered up the wall to meet her.

“Nightwing, hang around Cobblepot’s property often?”

“Only when the mood strikes, Batgirl.”

“Does the mood ever strike you to punch your way through the dozen or so bad guys guarding the door you're trying to get to or were you just planning on brooding outside until the sun came up?”

Dick hesitated. “Well, I… would normally just punch my way through them, but I promised Ba-Oracle that I’d be careful tonight. So I’m trying to avoid any unnecessary punching.”

Stephanie gauged him with interest for a second, wearing an expression that landed somewhere between bemusement and… something else that Dick couldn’t quite place. “Well,” she said, finally, “that explains why Oracle sent me to back you up. Couldn’t have you ruining that pretty face of yours before the big ball, now can we?”

Dick sighed. Did _everyone_ know about the undercover mission?

“Don’t worry, former boy wonder, the _new_ girl wonder is here to help you kick some bad guy tail with your face intact.” She made jabbing motions in the air as she spoke, punctuating her sentence with punches. “It’s gonna be a breeze. And we can even grab pizza or something afterwards.”

Dick felt a twinge deep in his gut. Pizza and crime fighting had been his and Babs’ thing back when she was the one wearing the cowl and hopping across rooftops. “Maybe burgers?”

“Burgers and burglar-busting it is!”

“ _We’re_ the burglars, Batgirl.”

“Burgers _with_ burglars, then. You can’t spoil my fun, Nightwing. That’s kind of my thing. Or. Was my thing. Y’know, as _Spoiler_?”

A smile crept across Dick’s face despite everything. This could be fun. Definitely not the same, but things didn’t have to be the same for them to be fun. “Well then, how about we _spoil_ an evening for some blundering baddies?”

“I thought you’d _never_ ask, Nightwing.”

-

“Alfred sure can pick ‘em, can’t he?” Dinah commented safely from the seat where she was observing Babs trying on the fifth dress of the afternoon.

Babs lifted her arms in disdain, emerald green fabric falling elegantly off of her arms. As much as she enjoyed trying on dresses, there were enough dresses selected for this to be a 15 season TV show. “My guess is that he’s been frustrated that the only fashion choices that he’s been able to make have been about crime fighting costumes and tuxedos for the past couple of decades. And even then, Jason barely listens.” She observed the intricate patterns on the fabric with calculated fascination. “Who knew he had such an eye for detail?”

Dinah waved a hand dismissively. “He just snagged the dresses from some pricey designer, right? I’m sure there were _plenty_ of dresses for him to pick from.”

“Still,” Babs murmured dreamily, running her hand through the fabric. “These are lovely.” Her eyes were pulled towards a small notecard sitting on a side table. She wheeled over to examine it.

“To Ms. Barbara Gordon,” the note read. “When my old friend Alfred Pennyworth reached out to me in need of dress designs for a young lady in a wheelchair, I couldn’t help but answer the call - after all, every woman deserves to feel beautiful.”

“It’s signed…” Babs squinted. “Tim Gunn?”.

“Sounds like some big shot designer.”

There was something different about these dresses, and Barbara kicked herself for not noticing sooner. While most dresses are designed to be worn standing, these dresses had been particularly tailored to be worn sitting. These dresses hadn’t just been hand-picked from a selection, Alfred had actually gone out of his way to make sure that the dress was designed to fit her. His thoughtfulness was a small but staggering gesture. She made a mental note to send flowers his way sometime very soon.

“So is that a yes to the dress?” Dinah asked, breaking through her thoughts.

“Yes, I’d say it is.”

-

Gunshots echoed in the hallway, and Dick was thankful that ear plugs were a part of the costume. “It’s not polite to shoot in hallways, boys,” Dick admonished, chucking one of his escrima sticks at the head of the man who had just taken some shots at him. It connected with a loud _ping!_ and ricocheted back into Dick’s waiting hand. He slid between the man’s legs and gave him a neat thwack to the back before turning his attention to the next guard who had a gun trained on him. Before the guard could take a shot at him, Batgirl swung down from the ceiling, wrapped the guard with her legs, and smashed him to the ground. Nightwing could have sworn he heard a bone crunch somewhere in there.

“Guns are no fun,” Steph quipped as she landed, arms raised in a fighting stance.

Nightwing couldn’t stop the grin spreading across his face as a familiar sense of adrenaline washed over him. Nothing got his blood running quite like taking down bad guys and making quips while doing it. But even more than that, there was something exciting about a Nightwing and Batgirl team up - something nostalgic. Dick’s heart skipped a beat as the memory of he and Babs fighting goons as Batgirl and Robin crossed his mind. It was like a dance - they had been so familiar with each others’ fighting rhythms and styles that they could take on a dozen cronies without saying a single word to each other about strategy - which led to plenty more space for them to learn about each other in between punches.

Steph’s blonde hair flashed by him and tore him from memory lane. “Get your head in the game, Boy Wonder,” she hissed as she decked a goon in the face.

“Right,” Dick shook the thoughts from his mind and listened to the sounds of the fight. Steph was handedly taking down the goons on the floor, but another sound registered in his ears. An echo-y sound - the stairs! He switched on the infrared and saw two more guards pounding down the stairs, obviously attracted by the commotion. He sprinted to the stairwell.

“Batgirl, Maneuver 7!” Batgirl gave him a questioning look and he was reminded once again that he wasn’t working with Babs - a pang shot through his heart. “Nevermind, I’ve got this - you get that door open!” Dick took a second to examine the stairwell - but only a second. The circus had never left him, and he knew his angles and forces better than most physics PhDs. With the practiced ease of a man who had done so a thousand times, Dick vaulted across the railing of the stairwell, hands grasping at a rail above him. He kicked his legs forwards and upwards, and the momentum carried him straight into the side of one of the thugs, slamming the man into the wall. Dick landed gracefully and swept his legs under the second man’s, knocking him prone. He  gave the man a nice tap with his escrima stick to make sure he stayed down and then made his way back to Steph who had managed to get the door open and was rifling through filing cabinets inside.

“Anything newsworthy, New Girl Wonder?”

“These look like financial records but not anything particularly exciting.” She flipped through a few more sheets. “Wait, this one is marked Cobblepot.” She pulled out a manila folder. She perused the folder for a moment as Dick searched among other papers, listening closely for anymore Cobblepot goons.

“Nightwing, Cobblepot’s first name is Oswald, right?” She knew the answer, but needed it confirmed.

“Yeah, but it’s not like anyone ever calls him that. Maybe I’ll call him ‘Ozzy’ the next time I see him.”

“Or Osbald,” Steph joked back. “But you’re sure he’s not named, oh, I don’t know, Ethan? Ethan Cobblepot?” She handed him the file.

Dick scanned the file, checking the birth date. Not a match. “Looks like… Penguin has a son?”

-

“I’m just glad that we didn’t have to carry all of those dresses back here,” Dinah said with relief as they entered Barbara’s apartment. “And not to mention all of the accessories that go with them. Alfred clearly has had too much time on his hands.”

“And the financial backing of Bruce Wayne,” Babs chimed from the kitchen. “I’m sure he’ll be glad to see clothing that was meant to be worn and not deflect bullets for once.”

Dinah shook her head in disbelief at the sheer volume of clothing that Alfred had arranged for Babs to try on. “It’s been a long day, I’m gonna use your bathroom.”

“You know where it is.”

The bathroom door shut and locked and for a moment there was silence.

“Babs?”

“Yes?”

“Why is there a a pair of men’s jeans in your bathroom?”

“They’re probably Dick’s.”

A pause.

“Do Dick Grayson’s jeans often find their way to the floor of your apartment?”

Babs’ face flushed and she was glad that Dinah couldn’t see her. “It’s not like that, it’s-”

“Not like _what_ , Babs?”

“Sometimes he stops by to shower before or after going out on patrol. It’s not weird. This is a pretty centrally located area with great access. He can change into and out of civilian clothes here.”

A longer pause.

“Riiiiiight.”

“Well this _is_ a safehouse, Dinah.”   
“Is that a euphemism for a house that uses condoms?”

“ _DINAH_.” Barbara’s face was red in earnest. “This… this isn’t…. Like that. We’re just friends.”

Dinah emerged from the bathroom, a satisfied smirk resting on her face. “Just friends indeed. Tell me, Babs, which of your other ‘just friends’ regularly take showers in your apartment?”

Babs was silent. Oh no. There really isn’t anyone else who showers in my apartment, she realized as her brain panicked and tried to find someone - anyone - who could be used to justify the total normalcy of this kind of arrangement.

“What’s going on here, Babs?”

“I… might have a thing for Dick Grayson.”

“I knew it.”

“Oh come _on_ you can’t have possibly known that.”

Dinah threw her hands in the air. “I couldn’t have? You two have been best friends for _years_. You’ve probably spent more time with Dick than you have with your own father in the past six years. He’s clearly a huge part of your life, in and out of the suit.”

“I guess.”

“I’m not finished. You were also much more nervous about the dress thing than you should have been if these dates that Bruce arranged for your cover story were strictly business. You’re invested. You want to impress Dick. You want to blow him away when he sees you.” Dinah’s tone softened. “Look. If Dick isn’t absolutely blown to pieces when he sees you in one of those dresses, then the man is blind. You’re beautiful, Babs. And smart. And dependable. And fierce. Grayson knows that. He’s always known that.”

Barbara wiped a tear from her eye and laughed. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. This is dumb. I’m being dumb.”

Dinah rolled her eyes. “The only dumb thing is that you haven’t asked the boy out already. What’s up with that? Dick was obsessed with you when you were kids.”

Babs waved a hand. “Oh, he’s moved on. We’ve grown older, matured. He’s got other things on his mind. Being Nightwing is a little bit of a bigger role than being Robin was and  he’s met several other women who could kick his ass, so things are pretty different now.”

“Grayson _would_ be into that,” Dinah muttered under her breath.

“What?”

“Nothing. Let’s get some food in you, you must be starved.”

-

“Rumor has it that Bruce Wayne himself has eaten in this very burger joint,” the waitress informed Dick and Steph as she took their orders.

“You don’t say,” Dick said interestedly, propping his chin on his hand. “ _The_ Bruce Wayne? I didn’t realize he ate burgers.”

“The owner says that Bruce ate the burger with a fork and knife,” the waitress continued. “Funniest thing he had ever seen.”

Dick let out a laugh that seemed disproportionate to the level of humor presented by the waitress. Stephanie was not amused in the slightest and the waitress seemed to catch on. She cleared her throat. “So are you two together or....?”

Dick glanced at Stephanie and chuckled. “No, nothing like that. She’s like my sister.”

“Yeah, a sister,” Steph said with an eye roll. “A sister that could break his kneecaps.”

The waitress gave her an odd look and shuffled off to deliver the order. Steph waited for her to disappear from earshot before addressing Dick. “You’re going to blow your cover if you keep flirting with literally every living woman you meet, Dick.”

“I wasn’t flirting, I was just being friendly. Also, I’m not exactly undercover right now.”

Steph felt herself go through the five stages of grief. “Look, Dick. Your brand of ‘friendliness’ suggests to every woman you meet that you’d like to sleep with them.”  
“ _It does not_.”

“Does too.”

“You don’t get that vibe from me, do you?”

“Well no, but we have a clear banter-only rapport, not a flirting with a stranger energy.”

Dick took a second to process that. “I’m pretty sure what I have with Ora- Babs is pretty similar to what we have.” His tone was cautious. Steph could tell that he was prying for some glimmer of information from her. “It’s banter, right?”

“Kind of?”

“Oh come on.”

“Why do you ask?” Steph pressed.

Dick tried to play nonchalant. He was, in fact, very chalant. “I just really want to be clear about my tone, since I’m so incredibly flirty with every woman I meet except you, supposedly.”

Stephanie was unimpressed. “Uh-huh.”

“Well, what do you want me to say? I’m an incredible flirt?”  
She gave continued to hit him with her unimpressed gaze, saying nothing. She blinked slowly, waiting.

“I have the voice of an angel and the butt of a god?”

Stephanie’s face twitched briefly from the incredible desire to laugh, but she fashioned it back to unimpressed.

“I am actually deeply and truly only in love with you and that’s why our banter is so different from how I talk to everyone else?”

Nothing.  
“That’s cold, Steph. Real cold. Ice cold. Antarctic cold. Mr. Freeze cold. Batman cold.”

“Come on, Dick, why do you want to know, really?”

Dick sighed. The playfulness jumped out of his eyes, his shoulders slumped, and he drummed his fingers restlessly against the table. “I just… want to know if the way I’m acting makes… Babs think that I’m not… that what we have isn’t special.”

Bingo, Stephanie high-fived her self internally.

“Because everything feels so real with her. I don’t have to laugh harder or fake a smile or pretend to be someone I’m not. It doesn’t feel like a performance.” There was a thoughtful silence. Stephanie was surprised that he was being so vulnerable. She hadn’t seen him like this before. His blue eyes were deep and anguished. “Talking to Babs is like taking off all of the make up and sitting by the fire after a show. The performance is fun and all, but the best part of the circus was always outside of the acts. That’s what talking to Babs is like. Does… does that make sense?”

He hit her with those blue eyes of his, deep, wide, and vulnerable. “Yeah. Yeah it does.” She softened. “Dick, maybe just tell her how you feel?”

Dick scoffed and sat back up straight. Steph could feel some of the emotional armor return to him. “I don’t want to ruin what we have. Besides, she’s got so many things to worry about. She’s kind of a big deal in the superhero community and I’m just… I’m just some guy in tights trying to do his best.”

Oh Dick, you absolute fool, Stephanie thought to herself as she watched her friend wrestle with his perceived unrequited feelings. But she knew better - she just couldn’t tell him. You complete and utter fool, Dick Grayson, she’s clearly in love with you too.


End file.
